


Connected Moments

by DealingDearie



Category: Star Trek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 22:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DealingDearie/pseuds/DealingDearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Spock thought of his mother, he thought of her smile, so oddly similar to the one Nyota often gave him, and wondered at his inability for the gesture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connected Moments

Occasionally, Spock would communicate with his father, growing a bit bored on the Enterprise's five-year mission just enough to yearn for familiar company from his home, and they'd end up talking, briefly, on the screen, about Amanda.

It was a sensitive subject for Spock to breach, but with his progressing relationship with Nyota, he could think of no one better to ask advice from than the one Vulcan who had married a human. Conversations centering on Spock's gentle mother were not easily started, and were definitely not easily continued, and it took most of Spock's energy to prevent himself from crying in front of his stoic father. Her death was an angry wound at the soft spot in his armor, gushing red whenever it was agitated, stinging and burning and aching so horribly that he could barely stand it.

And to hear Sarek speak so reservedly of his wife hurt Spock more than he'd ever admit, and the long hours spent swapping stories about her all ended with a stiff parting, some odd disconnection lingering between them. Spock guessed, and did not do this often, that if she were there, his mother could fill in the gaps forming between father and son.

He often thought of her when he was alone, or when he was gazing at Nyota, committing her face to memory, or when they argued, like he knew his parents had argued so many years ago.

He thought of her when he observed Jim and Bones laughing with one another, a common thing his mother would do whenever he didn't understand one of her odd jokes (she'd always laugh at the most inopportune moments, eyes bright with amusement as she waved dismissively over at him. "It's a human thing.").

He found her eyes somewhere in his mind as Jim tried ceaselessly to flirt with Mrs. Marcus, and her unimpressed eye rolls always sent him smirking after her retreating form, her small smile kept from his view.

Spock thought of his mother's smile, then and always, of the soft curve of her lips as she tucked his shirt collar down habitually, the gleam in her eyes as she shook her head in silent amazement, marveling at how tall he'd gotten ("You're growing up, right before my eyes." He'd shake his head, creasing his brow ever so slightly. "It is only natural to-" She'd press her fingers to his lips, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening as her smile widened. "You talk too much, Spock.").

He found himself talking to his father again, for the fifth night in a row, taking comfort in the welcome eyes and face and voice, finding solace in being so falsely near.

"My mother," he started quietly, "would have been laughing by now, surely." Sarek only watched. "She would have been smiling at us, making some human joke that I will never understand."

His father nodded imperceptibly and tilted his head.

"Much like your Nyota." It was only natural for Spock to voice his own situation whenever they talked, but to have her name come up so suddenly in a conversation so far from her-well, it was odd. Spock furrowed his brow slightly, refusing to respond, wondering at Sarek's words. The man on the other end of the conversation seemed to purse his lips, but it might have been a trick of the light casting shadows on his mouth, and Spock blinked to clear his head, gazing questioningly over at him.

"She must be strong, to choose a Vulcan," Sarek murmured, more to himself than anything, and his voice turned soft, "Amanda was strong, and stubborn." He glanced down, confused. "I wonder if that is a trend."

Spock could picture Nyota beside him, snorting at the comment before making some offhanded remark, and he wasn't sure if that was due to his extensive knowledge of the woman or his own hidden, surprising humanity, and he sighed inwardly.

"Why did she smile so much?" Sarek looked around him, as if searching for an answer, and finally lifted his shoulders, shrugging lazily.

"I suppose it stemmed from her happiness." And never before had it seemed so obvious, that his mother was purely _happy_ , all of the time. Never before had he refused to question it, and he accepted the answer, taking a deeper meaning in its words than he ever had.

"Were you happy, then, because she was?" Sarek never looked happy, had never once shown any sign of such an emotion in all of Spock's life, and didn't give any promising sign that he'd start to.

"Yes."

But that was all Spock needed to know, and he promptly ended the connection, immediately starting a new one with someone he could relate to on a more personal level. An aged face came on the screen, one with familiar eyes, and Spock reclined in his seat.

"Mr. Spock," he murmured respectfully, and his older counterpart nodded in his direction.

"Mr. Spock," he replied, the glint of amusement in his gaze. He thought long and hard about what he'd ask, and then decided to just be blunt.

"Did you know a Nyota Uhura in your life?" Spock asked carefully, and the Vulcan's eyes widened slightly, a soft look coming to them.

"I did." He took a breath, and looked to his hands, thinking.

"I understand that you cannot divulge certain information, but, if you can, were the two of you romantically involved?" Spock watched as his counterpart smiled- _truly smiled_ -and felt a certain level of shock at the gesture.

"We were far more involved than that, Spock. She was my companion for many years." Spock swallowed, nodding, pretending to understand the depth of emotion he was witnessing on the man's face.

"So you must know that she, currently, does not find my display of affection adequate." And that's when the older Spock laughed, a small chuckle that shook his shoulders, more like a cough than anything else, and the young Vulcan watched with wide, shocked eyes.

"She'll always have a problem with it, at least until you stop acting-and this is in her own words-'like a robot'." Spock shook his head, lost.

"But what if I can't?" The man only smiled at him, lips quivering with laughter, his dark eyes shining. Suddenly, his bedroom door opened to reveal a laughing Nyota, surely the aftermath of some joke she'd just heard, sticking her head through the space between the open door and the doorframe, her eyes bright with mirth as her chocolate hair cascaded down her shoulders, swinging with her every movement.

"Dinner's ready," she murmured lovingly, and he glanced up at her, a blank look on his face, nodding tersely. The flare of disappointment in her gaze wasn't lost to him, and when she closed the door, the click of her heels disappearing down the hall, he sighed, glancing down at the screen, the Vulcan therein looking like he'd just seen a ghost. His gaze softened, and he swallowed thickly, reminding Spock of his own reaction to the death of his mother.

"I've missed that voice," the man said hoarsely, and he clicked off the connection before Spock could reply. Sitting there, the memory of Nyota's laughter ringing in his head, the image of the older man's smile came to him, and stayed there all throughout the dinner that followed.

A Vulcan, smiling, just like he'd been given the greatest gift in the world.

And when Spock glanced to Nyota, her face lit up with joy, her eyes shining like the brightest of starts hung high in the midnight sky (so very like the fading laughter of his mother, bright in one moment and dying in the next, blurring lines and shapes and memories, all so very painful to watch disappear), he thought of happiness, and of the strength she gave him, and of the all-consuming love he felt at that moment, urging and encouraging and reassuring, all so incredibly human and wonderful that he could hardly mind, all so promising.

He thought that maybe, just maybe, he could, with her staring at him like that, feel that smile tugging at his features, so very like a warm memory he never knew he had, fitting into the routine just like he was born to do just that, falling into that cherished familiarity he'd always longed for.

And when her eyes widened, her own grin more joyous than anything he'd ever seen, his heartbeat sped up, and Spock just couldn't stop smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)
> 
> All rights go to their respective owners.


End file.
